


Someone to Watch

by Kiraly



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: F/F, Flash Fic, Flirting, Introspection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-18
Updated: 2017-06-18
Packaged: 2018-11-15 19:08:57
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,117
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11237346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kiraly/pseuds/Kiraly
Summary: For as long as she can remember, Sara has always been watched. But there comes a time when she has to decide who gets to do the watching.





	Someone to Watch

**Author's Note:**

> This was written for the [Synchronised Screaming](https://synchronisedscreaming.tumblr.com/) flash fiction challenge on Tumblr.  
> Prompt: Mila/Sara & Michele - Someone to Watch Over Me
> 
> This is my first time writing this pairing (or either of the Crispinos) so hopefully it's a good start!

For as long as she can remember, Sara has been watched.

Her earliest memory is a staircase, standing at the top and feeling like she might fly. She doesn't, of course, but tumbles down, too fast for her parents to catch. Mickey is first on the scene, patting her head and telling her not to cry, she'll be all right. She holds his hand and believes him. He's there to protect her. Of course everything will be okay.

She remembers him shouting, too, the first time she manages one wobbly lap around the ice rink. He is on the sideline, waiting for his turn, and has to be held back from skating out to hug her. Sara feels proud though, hearing him call her name and knowing he saw it all. She accepts the hug when she gets back to the door, and settles back to watch Mickey try.

As Sara gets older, more people start watching her. At first, it's good—approving looks from instructors and coaches, the excited cheers of the audience. But when her body starts to change and she moves up the rungs of the competitive ladder, the gazes sharpen in unpleasant ways. Male rinkmates who used to ignore her go out of their way to talk to her. Men on the street whistle, or look her up and down like they're taking her apart. When they start approaching her with unwanted offers, Mickey steps in.

"Stay the HELL away from my sister, or I swear you'll regret it!" Mickey is practically foaming at the mouth, he's that angry. The object of his wrath is slowly backing away, knocking over a bar stool in his haste. He'd only offered to buy Sara a drink, but the wink and smirk he gave her at the same time suggested more.

“Mickey, come on. He didn’t mean—Mickey, let’s go,  _ please.”  _ Sara has to drag him away, and he’s too worked up for the rest of the night to be any fun. It’s not that she doesn’t appreciate him looking out for her—that guy had been a little creepy—but she’s starting to wish that he wouldn’t watch her quite so closely all the time. Sara is the kind of girl who rolls with whatever comes her way. She wants to try new things, visit new places, meet new people. Maybe even let a stranger buy her a drink once in a while. Mickey  has always made her feel safe, but it’s getting hard to see the difference between safe and suffocated.

* * *

 

It all boils over at the Rostelecom Cup. The pressure becomes too much; she  _ wants  _ to win, and she  _ wants  _ to hang out with her fellow skaters, and she  _ wants  _ Mickey to leave her alone for five goddamn minutes so she can have her own life. And so she actually tells him to take a step back. He has to.  _ She  _ has to, if she’s ever going to be her own person. Sara doesn’t want to hurt him, but there’s no other way. 

And it’s glorious.

It’s awful, sure, but for once she can actually  _ breathe.  _ Sara skates her way to qualifying for the Grand Prix Final, and even though all eyes are on her, it feels like flying. Especially once she gets to the door and finds a different smile waiting to greet her.

“That was beautiful,” Mila says. Her own performance was too. She’s always been one of those skaters Sara can’t help watching; she draws the eye wherever she goes. But right now, she only has eyes for Sara.

“Thanks,” Sara says, “Yours, too.”

“I guess this means I’ll see you at the final,” Mila says. Is it Sara’s imagination, or does she seem more pleased than a simple competitor would? Her own heart is beating fast, but maybe that’s leftover adrenaline.

“I guess it does,” Sara says. And then, because she’s not quite ready for the conversation to end, “I’ll be watching for you.”

The memory of Mila’s smile makes it easier to face Mickey, later. She finds him after the men’s free skate, where he’d skated like she’s never seen. It’s better, she realizes, just like her own performance. She was right to push him.

* * *

 

There’s a medal around her neck and music thrumming in her veins and Sara is so, so alive. Plus, there’s alcohol flowing freely (or mostly free—she can see some of the underage skaters sulking in the corner) and someone will probably start a dance-off soon. It’s a good night.

It gets better, too, when Mila sidles up to her. “Another beautiful skate,” she says. She’s elegant in a blue dress that clings in all the right places, and the heels of her shoes make her even taller. “If I’m not careful, you’re going to get past me one of these days.”

Sara sips her drink to hide a smile. “I wouldn’t worry too much,” she says, “Your performance was breathtaking.” 

“Was it?” Mila steps closer, then glances behind her. Sara follows her gaze; Mickey is looking at them from across the room, but for once he seems...distracted. Maybe it’s because Sara is only talking to Mila, and Mickey’s protective instincts haven’t kicked in. Or it could be because every time Mickey looks at her, Emil steals his drink and takes a sip, so Mickey has to turn and look at him instead. Whatever the reason, it gives her a rare moment of freedom. Mila seems to think so, too. “Your keeper looks busy,” she says. “If he’s not careful, someone’s going to steal you away.”

Sara laughs. “It’d serve him right. He’s not supposed to be ‘keeping’ me anyway.” She tosses her hair and empties her glass. “And maybe I want to be stolen.”

“Is that so?” Mila asks. She’s watching Sara, and even though Sara is used to being watched, there is something different about Mila’s regard. It warms her, and stirs a thread of wildness she didn’t know she had. It makes her bold.

“It could be.” Sara sets her glass on the bar and loops her arm with Mila’s. “Or maybe I’ll be the one doing the stealing tonight.” She spares one last glance for Mickey—he’s fighting Emil for his nearly-empty glass, and Emil is practically sitting on his lap in an effort to reclaim it—then looks into Mila’s eyes. “Do you want to go somewhere?”

Mila doesn’t say anything, just smiles and lets Sara lead her outside. It takes a while to find a quiet place, away from the celebration and watchful eyes. But they find it eventually. And when they do, Sara pulls Mila in, and puts on a breathtaking performance of her own.

**Author's Note:**

> I am 1000% sure that Michele is so busy keeping guys away from Sara that it never occurs to him she might be interested in girls. One of these days I'll actually write a fic where he finds that out to his utter shock, but...not today, I guess!


End file.
